


The Story of You Two

by Dr_Psyche



Series: Welcome to Homestuck [5]
Category: Homestuck, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Psyche/pseuds/Dr_Psyche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We step away from the three noun titles and instead focus on a story about you, Miss Lalonde and you as well Miss Maryam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Story of Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Story about you Miss Lalonde, you and your exploration through this wonderful town.

"A Planet of Awesome size hangs in the night sky, lit by a brutal sun. It's not your planet, but it is hers. Welcome to Night Vale."

“This is a story about you, that’s great you think, actually you don’t think, it’s a rare thing you do these days. Now you normally obey. You wake up, earlier than the snoozing figure next to you, dress yourself and leave, quickly, soundlessly so as not to wake your partner. This is good, especially for the man on the radio whom you have severe apathy for, as he does need to get onto the story of someone else and intertwine it. This radio broadcast is hard.”

“You need to leave, you have a very important day a head of you.”

“You check your companion again, no signs she was disturbed, and she will not stop you. She turns and you see the jade green scar tissue on her abdomen, an old wound from a time you’ve both put behind yourselves.”

“A pang of guilt flashes through your mind, and while it does not deter you, you still write down a card for her, and leave it next to a cup of blood. You tap the cup with a wand, heating it up, so it can be warm for when she get’s to it. With that, you exit the house, bidding farewell to the Faceless Old Woman Who Currently Lives In Your Hotel Room.”

“Your name is ROSE LALONDE. You used to have a variety of INTERESTS. Like WRITING, KNITTING, and PSYCHOTHERAPY. You are a SUCCESSFUL AUTHOR. Who’s been that way for a few YEARS. These don’t matter now, as you work toward your true purpose with THE BEINGS OF UNFATHOMABLE MORALITY, which you really shouldn’t have approached, but did nonetheless.”

“You have a NEW PURPOSE now. You don’t even know if you should refer to yourself as an individual anymore. Having these thoughts prove that you still are you. Your WORK here is almost done.”

“This announcer will stop randomly SHOUTING, because it’s giving him a sore throat.”

“Before you became what you are now, you lived in the State of New York. You were a quiet bookish child, who’s questionable grasp on both sincerity and relationships put you at odds with our mother. After you failed at that you entered into a game with your friends, which destroyed the earth. By happenstance you failed at that as well. After that you eventually succeeded, you found more friends and fell in love. Now you’re in Night Vale, drawn by it’s dark, mysterious, and magical allure. You found a travel pamphlet made and printed by the Night Vale Tourism Board. The images shifted and showed you the many benefits of our town, like the local library, radon canyon, and the forbidden dog-park.”

“You were excited, excited to examine such a supernaturally strange little town. So you departed, with your companion, ever hesitant, in tow. You arrived at Night Vale by bus, which took a route that was built using non-Euclidean geometry. It was a confusing experience, but it didn’t take long.”

“You love Night Vale. You checked into one of our nicest hotels, and really enjoyed looking around the town. You signed books, as they seem to be popular here, and even visited the forbidden Dog-Park. Your escape from the Hooded Figures is… well I have no clue how you did it. I believe it involved dark Magyyks, like from those knitting needles, and yes that’s what they are, I’ve finally decided on calling them that.”

“Since then, you’ve used them more and more. There is power here, power in this environment, which you can tap into. This ancient strength has fed you, fueling your abilities here, perhaps with a flick of your wrist you could destroy us all, perhaps.”

“You can think more clear now than you ever could, you begin to learn your true purpose. Your companion shows worry over you, no, not worry, concern. You’ve been avoiding her, to examine the many dark secrets of our cozy little town. You’ve met and communicated with the little pyramid we have in the park, it was a good conversationalist. Still, you’re companion draws away from our towns beauty, she’s afraid, afraid that she might be taken away to one of the torture cells, afraid that the creatures here may assimilate her. Most of all, she is afraid both for you and of you.”

“You fought about it, last night. She just wouldn’t see reason, she wouldn’t see the beauty this town has, and she’s just too stuck up. You tried to tell her of the beauty of the place, but she drew back when you tried to use… certain words in certain tongues to convey yourself. She demanded that you leaved, now demanded, isn’t that a little harsh? I mean did she see your complexion? It’s a healthy shade of ash grey, and it’s getting darker by the day.”

“Maybe she’s just jealous because of the fame you have here, actually no, that’s stupid, you know better than anyone that the attention is inconsequential, but it will serve your new purpose. Still, she demanded you leave? Who’s she to demand anything? I mean sure, you’ve been paying unusual attention to the dark forces, and you do have an innocent man under your thrall and abusing his resources for, ugh, ‘altruistic’ purposes, I mean come on, altruism? A tad over-rated.”

“Anyway, your fight ended with both of you going to bed angry, and that’s never constructive in a relationship. I am tempted to give your relationship advice, but I know that it is as inconsequential to you as the rest of your old life. Soon, Seer, Soon.”

“You’ve left the hotel room, chastising yourself for wasting time with those gestures to your companion.”

“You go down the street, one of the first things you’ve noticed here is the lack of heat in the sun, seeing as we are in a dessert. In fact, many people are pointing that out, and come on, Carlos and his team are working on it, it’s the sun for crying out loud, it takes a while to get it hot again. At least it’s risings and settings are quieter now, sheesh, you’re all so hard to please.”

“You walk down the street, passing by Old Woman Josie and the Car lot. She looks at you, her tall friends stare you down. You stare back at her, does she know? It matters not.”

“You make your way down to Jerry’s Tacos, now a faceless black monolith run by the Hooded Figures. You enter it, despite it having no entrance, and meet with the figures. You speak, but it is not your voice. You #jgh$^^kgh

futma tuj tugluthinkleht

thifta lish tuwirg fu bimike

(Static)

…  
…  
…  
..  
.  
-and with that you depart from Jerry’s Tacos.

“Your skin has gotten darker, your mind ever foggier. Your purpose, however, is more clear than ever. It’s the book, the book you’re about to write.”

“Dark tendrils slither from your shadow as you begin to think about the book, what you’ve written in it.”

“The Sheriff’s Secret Police keep away from you, as they should, and you continue to walk.”

“You here footsteps coming after you, you move quicker, not because you fear these footfalls, for you do not, but because you don’t want to be caught up in another conversation with her again.”

“You round a corner and you feel her grab your hand, she’s fast. You turn on her, angry, she has interfered again, the plan needs to succeed, you need it, they need it.”

“You shout at her then, the anger rippling through you. She has stood against you at every turn, she’s crossed you, repeatedly, when she questions all the decisions. She’s scared of this place, and she’s taking that out on you.”

“She acts like you’ve hit her, and asks if you’re alright.”

“But you know, she doesn’t care, none of them care, she’s against you, trying to control you. She’s projecting her insecurities onto this town and getting in your way, in their way.”

“She looks hurt, she’s panicking now, reiterating her concern, and it looks as if she’s about to cry. You feel something cut through the fog that your mind is in, is it pity, concern, affection? You turn away, you’re head clears, though not completely.”

“You apologize, and surprisingly enough, you mean it. You’re sorry for dragging her through this, for making her worry. She does that far too often about you. You hate it when you bring her this much stress; you hate it when your own selfish, stupid ideas drag down those around you.”

“You tell her of the success you’ve had, and it makes you smile. She reiterates her concern about this place, her fear of all that’s here. It’s quite petty really.”

“You feel that affection dwindle, as if it’s being snuffed out by the nice comforting darkness in your head. You tell her that tonight will be the last night, you’ll grab your friends and leave here. Night Vale will miss you. You still need to do that Interview with the announcer who’s narrating this whole thing, and you’ll do that tomorrow.”

“She appears to be placated by this, perhaps she’s in denial about your true intentions, but whatever the reason, she accepts.”

“You leave her then, soundlessly, ducking down a dark alleyway and disappearing in the shadows, just in case she tried to follow you.”

“You reappear in the Shadow of the Walled Dog Park. You went into it once, and, again, I don’t know how you escaped, or if your escape was fabricated, or if you escaped at all.”

“You remove the medallion from your pocket, and activate it. A Strange mixture of a ghost, cat, princess, eldritch abomination, and the color pink emerges, you call it Jaspers. He seems so happy to see you, though he always is like that.”

“Hi Rose, what’s going on?”

“He says, smiling innocently at you.”

“Something flashes through your mind, is it regret, shame? Why is it still your mind?”

“Nevertheless, you tell him that he needs to be a good boy, and to get into his medallion and stay in there until you call him out.”

“He agrees without complaint, protest, or question, and slips back into his medallion.”

“He probably would have done it without you asking, but you just had to make sure, he can get a little curious sometimes and wander off.”

“You smile, softly, then sinisterly, then the smile leaves you, and you stand, expressionless, in the shadow of the wall surrounding the Dog Park. You toss the medallion, underhand, over the wall, and you don’t hear it land. You turn away, and don’t look back.”

“You pass by a store, it’s playing this broadcast out of its static riddled speakers. Had this been you, you would be both suspicious and fascinated that this strange man knew your story and was telling it on the radio. In this state, you do not care because both the man, and all the people here are inconsequential. Well, seeing as you don’t really care what’s on, how about we do a JARRING PERSPECTIVE FLIP, okay, that’s it with the random shouting, and see what your companion is up to. It can be a story about her as well.

(Static)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose's words are from the song Hymn of the Horrorterrors by Totalspiffage available for download on Tindeck here:
> 
> http://tindeck.com/listen/ejfk
> 
> Totalspiffage's tumblr post of the song can be found here:
> 
> http://totalspiffage.co.vu/post/40875532211/melodystuckrose-hymn-of-the-horrorterrors
> 
> Translations can be found at both links.
> 
> She has an amazing voice and I encourage you to listen to her.


	2. The Story Of Kanaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Story about you Miss Maryam, you and your unfair prejudices against this lovely town.

“A Planet of immense size hangs in the night sky orbiting a merciless sun. Is it you’re planet? Welcome To Night Vale.”

“This is a story about you, how fortunate, that the droll man who talks about strange and disturbing things as if they are normal, has time to give some light to your story. Light is something you need right now.”

“Your day is a funny one, you wake-up in a large bed at one of Night Vale’s hotels. This human concept of a bed took some time to get used to, it had no sopor, but it was very comfortable. You wake-up alone, which is something that has been happening too much recently, you’re partner is gone, probably out to explore this wonderful town which you still find strange.”

“You sigh and leave the bed, off to put some clothes on. You choose the red skirt and black shirt combination. This is your classic look, and you do like how it ties together. Putting your shirt on, you glance at the jade-green scar tissue that’s on your stomach. An old and fatal wound from a time of conflict and fear that you hope to forget.”

“What brought you to Night Vale, to this cozy little town? You weren’t born here, you’re birthing was on that far off planet with the cruel sun, a sun you liked in spite of your friends hatred of it. You were raised by a loving giant Moth, who died, and you failed to fulfill her last request, or so you thought. You have an interest in fashion and aesthetics, which your friends, sadly, do not share. You’ve even brought your Sewing kit to Night Vale and are currently working on another project. You and your friends were forced into a game, wiping your planet from existence, and eventually making all of you turn on each other. It wasn’t all bad, you’re all still friends, relatively, and you even got to make a universe, good for you.”

“You’ve met so many during your travels. You fell in love, and now live here, not in Night Vale of course, you’re just visiting, or so you say.”

“She’s gone now, it’s an annoying habit that she has been participating in more and more since you’ve come to this cozy little town.”

“You stare at the countertop, a little note has been placed under a cup full of luke-warm blood.”

“You read it, thoughtfully sipping your cup of blood, likely purchased from The Night Vale Greater Science Community’s Blood Bank, they take and give you blood, you can ask for the latter but have no choice in the former.”

“The note reads as such.”

“Dearest Kanaya,

I apologize for leaving you in the vacancy of our bed, but I had to go back and examine that business again. I showed you how fascinating it was, and it still draws me to it. However I digress, I will probably be out for the day so I’m afraid you’ll have to amuse yourself. I would not advise venturing to the Dog Park, those things, they stare at us, they whisper things you cannot hear. I did not wish to wake you so continue with your day.

Love,  
Rose”

“You sigh, finishing the blood and putting the cup in the sink. This town, you are afraid of it, you shouldn’t be, but you are. There are corrupt administrations, strange creatures, and phenomena you know you shouldn’t be witnessing. You fear for Rose, she has been talking to the Hooded Figures you’ve seen exit from the Dog Park. She uses her Thorns now, the powerful magic turning the corrupt business man into a puppet, her skin begins to change more and more as she converses with these beings. It frightens you to see her slip away.”

“You know why she hadn’t woke you. You had a fight, these have become more frequent when you entered Night Vale. You were concerned about her mental health, she keeps telling you she’s fine, but you find that she has lied to you about these dependencies before. She’s been using her thorns more and more, she’s fascinated by the weird things that surround this place, her interest in these dubious forces, you’re sure, is bad. She’s found purchase in the darkness here, and you may lose her to it.”

“Tough Break.”

“You turn to leave, startled somewhat by the Faceless Old Woman Who Lives in Your Hotel Room. She used to live in a home, but left for here because the Wi-Fi is better in this hotel, right now she’s sitting cross-legged on the sofa browsing the web. You discovered her when Rose cast a glance into the mirror during one of your more…private moments. She creeps you out, immensely, there’s a Faceless Old Woman watching you, and you can only see her some of the time. Rose insisted on letting her stay, as she was technically in the room before the two of you were, and it was you intruding on her.”

“Perhaps you were hurt by Rose jumping to her side so willingly, or perhaps you were just perturbed by discovering a faceless creepy being of unknown power watching you while…”

“Anyway, she bids you good-bye, see she’s nicer than you give her credit for, as you leave. She is also running for One Of Those Positions Of Localized Administration, and you should consider promoting her.”

You exit the hotel, you see the street corners, where men in balaclavas, uniforms and capes watch all who pass by. They’re quite annoyed that the listening bugs in your room have been shut off, and any visuals only display an inky black blur, you should really let them observe you more.”

“You head to the shop that sells cloth and other sewing materials, to indulge your creative side. You pass by a man in a lab coat with perfect dark luxurious hair. You may envy it, you may hate and fear it, but it is not for you. He waves at you as he puts together a clock at the door and then departs. He seems nice enough.”

“You smile at the lady at the counter and she stares right through you, her heterochromatic eyes swapping colors every so often. You ask for some fabric, and she wordlessly gets them for you.”

“You thank her and pay her, but you glance out the window and see Rose turning the corner across the street.”

“Quickly, you ask the woman to hold onto the fabric for a bit while you chase after her.”

“Rose has made her way down the street, faster than you would have believed and you set out at a brisk pace.”

“The sun isn’t as hot here as it should be, having grown up in a dessert you know this, but you don’t think too hard about it, as Rose turns a corner.”

“You round the corner as well, finally catching up to her, you grab her arm, and she rounds on you.”

“Her complexion has darkened, it’s a healthy shade of grey, darker than your skin. She glares at you then, hate and spite radiating from her eyes. The lovely shade of violet in them has been shrouded in inky black.”

“She shouts at you then, you recoil as if being struck, she’s angry.”

“You ask her if she’s alright.”

“Instead of answering you she accuses you of following her, of trying to control her.”

“You begin to panic, and again you ask if she’s okay, she turns away from you, rubbing her eyes. When she looks back they are enshrouded and her skin lighter, but still grey. She looks tired, and apologizes to you. She says she’s made a break through, having found what she needs from the Hooded Figures.”

“She seems happy about this, hoping to learn the secrets of Night Vale’s most secretest of citizens.”

“You shake your head and inform her of your complaints. You cannot stand this wonderful town, just because there’s corrupt law-enforcement, supernatural beings of extreme power and amorality, and the evil of this town is stealing her away. I mean jeez, try seeing it from a different point of view. She rolls her eyes and dismisses your concerns as if they were childish, which they are.”

“You tell her of your friends, the two who’ve gotten themselves lost, and she says she’ll get to it. Once again, you beg her to leave, to leave this place behind and return to your idyllic life. She sighs, and blinks to clear her eyes, as they were getting shrouded again. She sighs again, heavier this time, and the weariness is even more apparent in those piercing violet eyes.”

“Fine, she says,this will be our last night here.”

“You smile, and thank her for ending it.”

“I personally think you’re just stuck up.”

“Rose departs then, wordlessly, down an alleyway. When you try to follower her, but you find she’s disappeared. Ugh, I know how you feel, one moment you’re talking to someone, then the next they go down a spooky alleyway and are swallowed by shadows, it’s so rude.”

“You return to the store, and the dead-eyed woman. Her eyes are a solid color now, black, and that’s the entire eye, not just the iris. Red tears, smelling like her blood, come down her face. Unnerved you pick up the fabric and leave.”

“The woman mutters something, softly, unhearable save for your enhanced senses.”

“She will kill you.”

“As usual this, very normal occurrence, freaks you out, and you leave quickly. Jeez, don’t be so quick to judge.”

"You return to the hotel, the receptionist stares through you, similar to the woman at the store.”

“You find your room, and set the material down, and you locate a key you have stashed away in a drawer. You unlock your Sylladex, which is really handy, even if the City Counsel has issued a ban on them. Actually, come to think of it, how do we have that? How can we have some hammer space thing to hold our items? I’d really like to know.”

“Anyway, you deploy your sewing machine, and return to your project. The machine whirs and stabs ever downward, stitching your work further into place. You spend a considerable amount of time on this, unable to keep Rose from your mind. Then suddenly, a thought hits you. It is a strange thought, possibly brought on by the free will you are cursed with, or maybe it’s brought on by the man on the radio. The composed relaxed man whom you are suspicious of, who is currently narrating your day. You don’t remember turning the radio on, but that’s rather inconsequential as the Faceless Old Woman did it because she was bored. Right now she is cleaning your sheets, there seems to be blood on them, not right now, for she doesn’t experience time as you do. Perhaps the blood is in the future or the past? This all doesn’t matter, because you have a thought in your head.”

“That thought is: What Is This Strange Human Talking About?”

“That thought will change into: What Is That Horrible Feeling I Have In My Stomach About The Dog Park?”

“You question this thought, brought on by the man on the radio. Should you go down to the dog park with those frightening Hooded Figures? Well, Rose is there.”

“Upon hearing that, you bolt from your work station, and sprint out the door. The strange disturbing man is talking about Rose and her proximity to that threatening place. You must find out what’s going on.”

“This man has been narrating your life, he knows something, and he deemed this an important topic to converse about openly. You know something bad is about to happen.”

“You’re sprinting across town now, you cover ground quickly due to your vampiric speed.”

“You run past Old Woman Josie’s house, and she looks at you with what could be described as pity.”

“The rest of the people of this town, though, they stare at you, their empty gazes seem friendly enough, but not to you for some reason, ugh, you really are stuck up.”

“You continue to run, the strain not even apparent. You notice that it is dusk now, the day seems to have fled by you, which is impossible, you haven’t been out or sewing that long. Your brain, sorry, Think Pan, processes this and subsequently deems it irrelevant as you run for the Dog Park.”

“You see it now, dark walls looming. They seem to get bigger as you approach; the doors open, beckoning you into the darkness behind them. That darkness is impenetrable, it’s like a thick black sheet put up behind those doors, which ends at the tops of the wall. You turn on your skin, which is luminescent, it’s a really useful power, but not very original, the mayor can do it, and so can her aides. However, your cheap, bargain bin glow suits you here and you enter the Dog Park. The light casting a glow around you, illuminating a few trees, and the grass. You don’t break pace and keep running, the gate closing behind you.”

“You slow now, the visibility less than you’d like. You can see the trees, and a black monolith. You see no people here, but you do see a number of figures, formless shapes which you think are watching you.”

“It’s good you think that, because they are of course.”

“You look around, you need to find her. Waiting here, even for another night was a mistake. Hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you can grab her and hop right on the next bus out of here, there should be a few coming, and you can probably replace any and all the stuff you’ve left behind in the room.”

“But my musings are lost on you, as you don’t have a radio nearby to take my advice.”

“You look around, taking out your trusty lipstick. The grass is undisturbed, and you can hear them now, moving, not towards you, but they are moving, their robes are dragging across the grass, but you do not hear footsteps, or anything that indicates the figures touch the earth. You see the shadows, passing around you. You tense, your heart, and I refuse to call it whatever your elitist troll term for it is, races.”

“You fear this place, the fear mixes in with your concern for Rose, and finally, the dread. You know you won’t make it out of this place, you know, you kno-”

“Oh wait, look at that. You look up to see the monolith, smooth black, shining when your radiance touches it, almost as if it was made of obsidian. It towers over you, you don’t know if it moved toward you, or if you stumbled toward it. Do you fear this impressive monolith?”

“You should.”

“You notice something, there, on the monolith, it’s pink, and you touch it. It’s thick, and it tastes- really you tasted it? Where are your priorities? It’s blood, a different kind of blood, mixed with something, some energy which made the spri-”

“You stop the thought, the horror dawns in your mind as you realize what this pink liquid is.”

“You stare up at the monolith, but then you whirl around when you hear the robe dragging stop. They are here now, the Hooded Figures, they surround you and the monolith.”

“Their faces, if they even have faces, are hidden. One approaches you, breaking off from the rest.”

“You wield your chainsaw now, it’s revving and you stare this figure down. You are ready to fight it, to fight all of them.”

“The figure is in front of you now, it removes its hood.”

“You can only stare at its face, at Rose’s face.”

“She’s different now, her skin is dark grey, darker than yours normally is. Her irises are black, and her pale hair stands in sharp contrast.”

“Rose?, you ask, What Has Happened Are You Alright?”

“She says nothing to you, her face is unreadable. You stow your lipstick.”

“Rose, We Need To Leave Immediately. This Town Is Evil, you say, as judgmental as usual.”

“Rose?, you cast a look at the monolith and the pink stains on it, Rose I Think Ja-”

“Her smile cuts you off. She lifts up an arm, her hand sliding out of the robe. She has something in it. She opens her palm, and you see it.”

“If your face could go pale, it would have. Your eyes widen at what you see, and you know, in that single instant, that you really have lost her.”

“The Hooded Figures advance on you then, quickly, they surround you, and you hear the blazing static. It overwhelms you and you reach for her, hoping it’s a lie. She drops what she’s holding and grabs your hand, digging her thumb into the valley between your thumb and forefinger. It hurts, oh God does it hurt, you want to cry, maybe you do, but the figures have overrun you and-

(static)  
…  
…  
…  
..  
.

-wake up immediately. You almost fall out of your chair.”

“You’re back at the hotel, having taken a nap in front of your sewing machine, the project you were working on is undamaged, and still almost complete. The machine is off, thankfully, and you see some jade stains on your sleeve, were you crying?”

“You stand up, putting a hand through your hair. Outside it is dark, how long were you asleep? You don’t check the clock, your first day here had you realize how inaccurate they all are.”

“What the heck was that? Was it really just a nightmare, if you want my advice, it probably was, pay it no mind.”

“No!, you shout, I Most Certainly Do Not Want Your Advice! You Seem To Be Spying On Me and You Make Note Of Numerous Deadly And Suspicious Happenings In This Town And You Do Nothing To Stop Them Or Even Make Them Out To Be A Problem! I Can Only Conclude That Your Intentions Are Malicious!”

“Of course, you are simply shouting at a radio, and the announcer obviously can’t hear you, so you’ve accomplished nothing, congratulations. Anyway, you will be hearing someone coming in shortly and it seems you’ve finally turned off the radio, unwilling to listen to anymore of this.”

“Where Is Rose? You wonder, then you hear a knocking, just as the radio man predicted. The term Speak of The Devil should be going through your mind right now, as you open the door to find Rose, her hair disheveled, but her skin and irises returned to normal, standing outside.”

“You stare at her, and she stares back at you. She looks uncertain, you prepare to tear into her, air each and every grievance you have with this lovely town, and demand you leave tonight.”

“Before you say anything, her face falls, now she looks crushed, as if she’s done something horrible, and her arms are around you, pulling you into a hug. She grips you tight, and has her head buried in the crook of your neck.”

“You don’t know what to say, so you hug her back, embracing her and holding her close. Neither of you say anything then; the silence hangs over you, you are unwilling to break it. Your concern and worry melts away, and you’re happy she’s here, with you.”

“I’m sorry, she says.”

“You say nothing.”

“Kanaya, I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I… I was wrong about this place.”

“Hush Rose. You say to her, softly Its Okay.”

“She kisses you then, and in that single instance, you know everything is alright.”

“Isn’t it?”


	3. Tsk Tsk, now look at what you've done.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story of You, Miss Lalonde, concludes.

“The Spotlight is back on you, Miss Lalonde, and the nefarious plans you hope to carry out.”

“You kiss her, and you are together once more, it’s like how it used to be.”

“The man on the radio narrates in the background, but his words are lost in the swell of emotions that you’ve managed to simulate.”

“She kisses you, both move to the room.”

“You’re clothes are off now, tossed carelessly by the door, as are hers.”

“The Faceless Old Woman grabs a soda and heads out, that will be on your room-service bill.”

“You continue to kiss, pushing her on the bed, she smiles up at you, and you descend to her, lips meeting once more.”

“She doesn’t notice your shadow, tendrils snaking out from it, she doesn’t notice your skin turning more and more grey.”

“She also doesn’t notice the needle that appears in your hand. You break the kiss, and push off her. She opens her eyes and then… the needle enters her neck.”

“It’s a swift elegant motion, and soon the sheets are being stained with jade colored blood.”

“She looks up at you, mouth slightly ajar. She has that look in her eyes, the look of betrayal. She’s shocked at what you’ve done, and, well, she shouldn’t be. You don’t need her anymore; you don’t need any of them. You have your new purpose now, you aren’t sorry, despite this feeling you have, this twisting in your gut, this need to scream that everything you are doing is wrong, you are not sorry.”

“Still, she looks hurt by what you’ve done.”

“Rose? She manages to say.”

“You have another needle now, and you plunge it into her stomach, through the jade-green scar tissue.”

“She gasps in shock, and you send a small spell, directly into her spine. The explosion of nerves hits her, and her features mix pain with betrayal. Eventually her eyes go dark, and you know she is gone.”

“You stare at her unfocused eyes, and then you remove yourself from the bed, needles disappearing.”

“You aren’t sorry.”

“You stare at the body, but only for a moment, and you head into the bathroom for a shower.”

“You shower and find some clean clothes, your black dress and pink sash should do nicely.”

“You put them on, and spare one more look to the body. You sigh and walk over, closing her eyes before going to grab your headband and pushing back your hair.”

“You leave then, you’ve got so much great work to do, especially with the man on the radio.”

“You exit the hotel and head down the street.”

“The night isn’t young, but it has a nice preserved middle age. You do not care for our beautiful architecture, not that you should. It is at this point that you pass by the car lot.”

“Old Woman Josie is in her yard now, gardening, while her angels are still inside.”

“She looks at you then, she gives you this knowing look. Could she know your sins? Does she know what you’ve done? She couldn’t have heard the broadcast, it cut off in all radios except yours and was replaced with open-mouthed chewing, today featuring Dots.”

“You narrow your eyes at her, but she continually stares at you, never breaking eye-contact. It is finally you who breaks eye-contact and leaves, she is unimportant.”

“You are not sorry.”

“You walk down the street. When the sun comes up, you will need to do the interview, and your true purpose will come to light.”

“You go further down the street, and soon find your path blocked by a Hooded Figure.”

“You stop in front of it, and you wait.”

“It extends one of its robed ‘arms’ to you, and you reach inside of it, extracting something.”

“You look at it, how quaint! It seems to be the object you held in your hand when your companion entered the Dog Park in that foolish act of supposed bravery which they tried to pass of as a dream.”

“You look at it now, it’s a patterned medallion with a green symbol on it. It’s the one you threw over the wall of the dog park earlier today. Now however it has an array of spider web cracks, and it’s covered in pink liquid, possibly coming from the cracks themselves.”

“The Figure dips it’s hood, as if it is nodding, and you nod back. It is done.”

“You are not sorry.”

“It leaves, vanishing down an alley way.”

“You walk down the road, and you look at your complexion in the glass of one of the shops. Your skin is the acceptable shade of grey; your eyes have gone completely black and your shadow morphs and slithers behind you. The only flaw seems to be the green stain near your hairline, her blood from when you touched her and then put on the headband. Could Josie have been staring at that? The blood sizzles and evaporates off your skin, and now you are fine.”

“You hold up the medallion, and summon a needle. You will destroy it for good. You stare at the two objects, one soaked with pink, the other with jade.”

“You are not sorry.”

“One easy spell, and the medallion will be gone, another and the blood will evaporate from the wand. It’s simple and won’t take a second… do it.”

“You are not sorry.”

“It’s a simple spell, DO it. C’mon, the vessel will serve, she W I L L do as she’s told.”

“You are not sorry.”

“Her will is gone, absorbed into your collective, just destroy, have her destroy the medallion already.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?!”

“Er, I mean… hm, there doesn’t seem to be anymore script. I could have sworn I wrote more, oh, hold on, more words are forming in the paper… They seem to be in an eldritch dialect that I can’t read, oh well.”

“Now- actually, hold on again listeners, English words are forming once more.”

“You stow the bloodied items, they mean nothing to you now, I said, you stow the bloodied items because they mean nothing. Put them away. NOW. There, good girl.”

“You walk on, because you have a big day tomorrow.”

“And that concludes the story about you. You may move onto other things, other big plans, but that’s for later. Today you were happy that for once, your story could be told. Now, because Station Management has been pacified, I bring you the weather.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_cdXNWD1VY

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay  
Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby   
Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay  
 And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow   
Bless you with love for the road that you go  
May you sail far to the far fields of fortune   
With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet  
 And may you need never to banish misfortune   
May you find kindness in all that you meet  
May there always be angels to watch over you   
To guide you each step of the way   
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm   
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness  
 Be loved in return to the end of your days   
Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you  
 I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay  
May there always be angels to watch over you  
 To guide you each step of the way  
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm 

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay  
Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai-lay Loo-li, lai-lay

“Goodnight Night Vale, Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Night Vale is a production of commonplace books. It’s written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor and produced by Joseph Fink. The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin.
> 
> Today's weather was Sleep Song by Secret Garden.
> 
> Homestuck is created by Andrew Hussie.
> 
> Today's Proverb: She who loves you will make you weep... and bleed, oh so much. The blood is everywhere, oh god why.


End file.
